Winters of Jotunheim
by konnokyo
Summary: Jotunheim AU in which Jotunheim is one of the technological most advanced realms. Anthony Stark is the son of a blacksmith, but couldn't care less for his father's work. Due to unfortunate incidents, he is forced to serve the king as a thrall, were he meets Loki, the arrogant and mischievous prince and has seriously trouble following his orders. (Warnings inside)
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Okay so. Jotunheim AU. Tony is a Jotun. Everyone is Jotun. In my story there are many magic wielders, Tony is none of them. He is the genius we know. Loki is the son of Laufey, raised as the prince he is. Also people are wearing clothes similar to the Asgardian Style. And they have hair, like MCU Loki. So, just gonna state, there are some differences to the Thor movies._

_This will contain graphic violance, humiliation as well as slight non-con. If you don't like that, you've been warned._

_I really hope you'll like it. I certainly do. I am anxious to hear your thoughts and if you want more =)_

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Since the great war with Asgard was over, Jotunheim's economy was flourishing. Nowadays Jotunheim was one of the most advanced realms. A fact that made the life of Anthony Stark incredibly comfortable. As the son of a blacksmith who worked for the royal family, as well as the court, life couldn't be much easier. Orders came in almost every day and his old man couldn't work fast enough to complete them. The reputation that followed the name Stark was securing their well-being. His family was always held in high esteem and Tony, as he liked to be called, didn't need to lift a finger. Even though his mother always tried to convince him that her talented son should help his father in the workshop. She was a gorgeous woman. Lovely and caring, the exact opposite of his father.

Tony had already learned everything he needed from his old man and he didn't spend time with him if he could avoid it. Howard always did what his clients wanted, even though it was a dumb commission from an even dumber man. Tony couldn't do that. He wouldn't deliver anything but perfection, which had often caused him trouble when it came to work. No one seemed to care if the spectral knife was better balanced, or sharper, if it hadn't the look they wanted. So Tony had stayed out of the forge, only inventing his own technology. Some people called him arrogant, ignorant and egocentric, but the truth was, he was a genius. Even more so than his father, who always held his attitude against him, saying that his insubordination would be his death someday.

Little had he known that this would be his fate, after all. The realm of Jotunheim had many cities, which from the capitol, where more than a day's journey away. Since Tony refused to deliver their forged goods, his parents headed out to do this task. Unfortunately, winter had been already nearing, and Howard hadn't expected that the pass through the Hilgr mountains would be already buried deep within snow and ice. It had happened because he couldn't wait for the weather to get better, couldn't wait for spring. This stubborn old bastard.

Tony had mourned for his mother, but not for his father. He had brought them into this situation. It was entirely his fault. If he hadn't been so stupid to be always correct and punctual, Maria could still be alive. He blamed the man for her death. He had dragged her with him. And thus could be held liable for Tony's misery.

In the first time after the funeral, in which only replacements were buried in the frozen ground, people had expressed their condolences, given him all kinds of gifts to help him over the loss of his parents. But even the most kind people were eventually minding their own business and soon Tony was dependent on his father's forge. Now he had to work to earn enough money to actually eat. This was one thing he thanked his father for. His established clientele. The work was monotonous. Easy. Too easy for him. Some clients wanted weapons, others armor or simple jewelry. Nothing creative. Nothing challenging. Yet, Tony had trouble to comply to their wishes. It turned out that people still didn't appreciate getting something different from what they had ordered, improved or not. One single month did he last. Just one month until customers stayed out and Tony had to rely on the savings of his parents. Embarrassing, really, but what else could he do when these people were too stupid to admit that their ideas or drafts were not efficient. Their loss.

Much to Tony's dislike, it was his problem in the end. Without money there was no way for him to buy food. Trading was out of the question, because normal citizens didn't need ores or rough gems. They only needed smithery for luxury goods or weaponry. Most of them had their seidr for anything else. Magic. Tony was no seidr wielder. He had to depend on his own skills to forge what he needed. So there was only one thing he could resort to. Theft. It was strange how easy that was for him. At first no one noticed, he was smart, after all, only ever stole what he needed for survival, never too much, so nobody grew suspicious. It worked out for a couple of weeks. Not that he was proud of himself for stealing, but he had to say that he got pretty good at this. He could take items from people's pockets without them even noticing that he was there. Probably because no one would expect to get stolen from in the capitol. Royal guards roamed the streets day and night, at least facilitating the feeling of safety. Tony was thankful that he at least had the workshop and didn't need to sleep in some dark alley. The Jotuns living on the street had a hard furrow to plough this time of year. It got colder with each passing day, to a degree that the ice and snow would burn even a frost giant's skin when he wouldn't wear any protection from the cold. Tony hoped he wouldn't ever have to spend a night without a roof over his head.

But Tony got careless after these few weeks. Stole from the wrong people. A merchant caught him red-handed and was about to cut off his hand, for this was the appropriate way to handle a thief, but his wife prevented him from actually doing it. In their struggle, Tony accidentally knocked over a few objects made of porcelain, which only made everything worse. Not only was he accused of thievery, but was now also in the shop owner's debt. Guards dragged him out by his neck, the bulky men were much stronger than Tony, even though he wasn't slight by any means, and were quick to throw him into the dungeons. Normal or poor people couldn't effort trials. Nor could they demand a hearing.

The dungeons of Jotunheim were just that. Dungeons. Not like the ones in Asgard, or Midgard. The prisoners told each other tales that these realms actually put their captives into cells that had beds, or an adjoining bathroom. Something you could only dream of in here. Tony sat on the cold floor, hands enchained by iron manacles that cut into his skin whenever he had to move them. Warmth was only provided by a single fire in the middle of the corridor, barely reaching the cells that were separated by iron railings. It was barely warm enough to let them survive. And this was the whole reason why they shouldn't just die. They should suffer for their crimes.

Tony was starving. It had been almost a week since the guards had given them something to eat. It was strange what hunger could do to you. He sat there, leaning against the wall, head dropped to his chest, imagining how the meat of a Jotun would taste. Not that he could get out of his cell, or would actually try it, but this was just that kind of thought that came to you when you haven't eaten in days. A sound startled him, making him look up. He watched as a posh dressed Jotun with fair, slicked-back hair, walked to the door of his cell, gesturing to the guards to open up. Tony eyed him up suspiciously, asking himself mentally what this was all about and hissed in warning when the arrogant-looking man came too close to him.

"You will have to drop this attitude." The man raised an eyebrow at the huff.

"And who are you to order me around?" Tony was surprised how hoarse his own voice sounded.

A guard yanked him up by the chains, causing pain to spread from his wrists into his entire body. Tony was barely able to stand on his legs when the guard unfastened the shackles, and not too gently. The blacksmith rubbed his aching wrists to soothe the pain, but the cuts were too deep and needed proper treatment.

"My name is Jarvis. I am the head of the royal servantry. I am here on behalf of king Laufey." The other said, not a hint of emotion there. His voice was as cold as this prison.

And Tony just burst out in laughter when he heard the words.

"Oh? No shit?" He cursed and saw the man grimacing at the use of vulgar language. "Tell me then, valet, what do you want?"

Without his consent, one of the guards threw a thick fur around his shoulders, which in any other situation, Tony would have been glad for. Now he just tried to get rid of it, a wasted effort.

"You will also have to adjust your language." Jarvis only said indifferently and stared down on the dirty man, eying him up from head to toe. "Your obligee has sold you to the royal house. Apparently you weren't able to square your debt, even though most of your possessions were disposed of."

Tony's breath caught in his lungs. This couldn't be true. This was not happening.

"From this very second you are part of the king's property and will serve as a thrall."

His gaping was answered with a wink of the man's hand, at which the guards grabbed Tony by his arms and started pulling.

"I won't serve anybody!" Tony spat, before his hair was grasped by a firm hand, keeping him in check.

"You will."

Without being able to fight back, or even struggle, Tony was dragged out of his cell.

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_Leave a comment 3 Would like to hear what you think!_


	2. Chapter 2

Two guards had accompanied them to the palace, making sure that the spiteful slave was ending up at the right place. And spiteful was the most fitting word to describe Tony's behavior at that moment. The entire time he was struggling against the grip of the two men, cursing them for doing this to him, but it hadn't been any good. Those two were trained for this and thus not deigning him even one look.

They had taken one of the backdoors to the palace, probably because the sleek looking man had wanted to assure that no one saw slaves or convicts entering the building. Tony couldn't appreciate the discretion though, his mind too far gone to do anything but trying to break free. Jarvis had guided them to, what Tony could only recognize as, the slaves quarters. He was roughly shoved forward into some kind of kitchen and landed ungently on his knees, glaring at the two men who now bid their goodbye.

When Tony tried to stand up to inspect his knees, two servants heaved him up by his arms, snatching the fur off him and discarded it to the side, exposing the man as a result. Tony stared at them and tried to cover himself. He felt vulnerable under all these pairs of eyes. But Jarvis just stood there, arms crossed, eying him up, as if this was the most natural thing. It was disgust that was written all over his face. Tony ground his teeth and averted his gaze. This man gave him the creeps. It was rare for Jotuns to have eyes of a different color than red or brown. And those bright eyes were piercing his soul.

His hands were clinging to the undergarment he still wore and only now, under the light, he realized how dirty he really was. Cold air hit his skin and he involuntarily started shivering. The windows were open to ventilate the room and with clothes on it maybe wasn't too cold, but standing bare foot on the cold tiles was something entirely different. Tony's eyes followed the two servants, but he couldn't get himself to actually move after them into the other room. They didn't look like slaves to him. They wore beautiful garments. Long robes with golden seams. Blue eyes were still looking down at him scrutinizingly when he tilted his face back. It made him even more uncomfortable as he already was.

"I won't serve anyone." Tony tried again, but felt his voice cracking, betraying him.

Jarvis raised an eyebrow at this and nodded, taking a step towards him, screwing up his nose.

"Yes, indeed you won't. Not in this pitiful state."

Tony pouted at this, standing there with his mouth open. Who was he to insult him like this.

"What did you just say...?" Tony pressed out through gritted teeth.

"I said, despite the fact that you look like a filthy prostitute from the streets... You reek. Your appearance is a disgrace for your family's name. Be thankful the king took you in." The jotun said, face blank, not mirroring the anger on the other's face.

"Pah..." Tony spat back. "You can shove your generosity up your ass! You stupid son of a..."

The rest of the insult got stuck in his throat when his arms were grabbed and bent behind his back, rendering him immobile.

"Don't make this any harder for yourself, please." Jarvis added, seemingly bored by the futile struggle.

The second servant took a knife and all of a sudden Tony was at a lack of words. He swallowed hard when the dark-haired male stepped towards him, knife in hand, getting dangerously close. The blade came down on his undergarment, cutting it in half, denuding him.

"Hey!" Tony objected, face turning a bright red, but no one was listening to him. It seemed to be routine around here. Routine of getting slaves ready for their master.

A female jotun entered the room, small and pudgy, but with a beautiful face and nodded towards her superior, who finally had the benevolence to lift his gaze from him.

"The bath is ready, Sir."

Tony's eyes lit up at this. He hadn't had a bath in weeks. Suddenly he couldn't wait to get going.

"We will have to make you look acceptable before we can even remotely think about you getting near to our majesty." Jarvis stated and moved to thank the female. "I will instruct you personally."

"Great." Tony rolled his eyes. That man was the last one Tony wanted to spend more time with. "And what if I refuse?"

A hand moved to Jarvis chin, he looked at if he was actually considering it.

"Well... I can't force you."

A gesture with his hand made the two servants sigh and the one holding Tony's hands shoved him rudely to the kitchen's door. The other opened it and immediately Tony hissed at the cold wind that whipped his skin. He tried to shield himself, but the grip on his wrists wasn't letting him turn away. Before Tony could say anything, he was pushed out into the snow. Barely able to catch himself, he turned around and wanted to curse, only to get the door slammed into his face.

"What..." Tony stared incredulously at the now closed door. "You can't leave me out here!" He hammered a fist against it.

The winter in Jotunheim was hard. Especially in the night. If he would stay in the snow for too long, he would freeze to death. It already felt as if the snow was burning his skin.

"I can and will. You are of no worth for me if you can't behave yourself." Jarvis told him nonchalantly through one of the windows. "And you will die on the streets if you keep that attitude up. Die on the streets or serve your majesty, it is indeed up to you." With this, the window was closed and Tony left alone in the ice.

It didn't take long until the pouting face was contorted by the cold. His body started shivering on its own, the biting cold piercing marrow and bone. Tony thought about running away. He could try and find shelter in the town, try to get back to his house, which probably had been sold by now. Damn. He had no choice. It was either swallowing his pride and accepting his fate or dying on this very doorstep.

For more than half an hour he sat on the icy ground, his teeth already shattering when he ruefully knocked on the door, knuckles already hurting. But there was no answer, no one opening the door.

"Please..."

He was begging now, pleading for admittance. And only now the door opened a crack, revealing the maiden, who invited him in. She helped him stand up and go inside, where Jarvis had tended to a book, not even looking up when he addressed him.

"Did you come to your senses?" The indifferent voice asked and Tony couldn't do anything else but nod.

"Yes..."

"Good." The blonde stood up from his chair again, left the book and walked the maid and Tony into the other room.

Even though he was back in the warmth, Tony was still shivering when he was let to a bathtub. Hot water steamed the room and he walked a little bit faster, the embarrassment of being naked completely forgotten. The maid helped him into the tub, holding his arm so that he wouldn't slip and fall. Tony sank into the water, body temperature immediately rising. Hot water wasn't too enjoyable, at least not in summer, but for someone who was close to freezing, it was perfect. Normally hot water was used to punish, but in his case it was probably to clean him from all this dirt. Laying his head back and closing his eyes in bliss, Tony enjoyed the water, until a sponge brushed over his shoulder.

He opened his eyes abruptly, staring into bright orange eyes. It was the handsome dark-haired male from earlier. Handsome yes, but Tony was still uncomfortable with someone scrubbing him down. His gaze switched to Jarvis, who stood next to the tub with his hands behind his back.

"I can do this myself, you know?" Tony chirped and startled the young man.

"Apologies..." He began. "I have to make sure that you are clean."

"Hey..." Tony raised an eyebrow at this.

The orange eyes turned to the older for instructions, who only nodded for him to continue.

"Go on, Karef."

So that was his name. Tony sniffed a chance to make his stay a little bit more comfortable.

"Karef, huh? Fine you can clean me all day long." Of course he was joking, but the reaction he got from him was worth it. The other could barely hide his smile, but it was wiped off his face the moment Jarvis cleared his throat.

"Do your work." Karef nodded obediently and proceeded with running the sponge over Tony's body. "How did you manage to expend all the money your parents had saved up?" Tony narrowed his eyes. "It should have been more than enough to support you for more than two months."

"None of your business." He snapped back, but Jarvis only shook his head chidingly.

"It is. The king did buy you, as well as your debts." The elder watched how the boy imitated him talking, definitely stretching his patience. "It is embarrassing, really. Do you know how many... establishments we had to visit until we had all your creditors collected? Multiple inns, taverns and brothels..."

The disgust on his face left Tony cold. This shouldn't concern him. It had been his money. And he had spent it the way he had wanted. Tony grimaced when Jarvis continued talking, as if his sermon wasn't long enough already.

"And what's up with all those machines?"

"I needed all that!"

"Of course..."

Tony was about to get out of the bath tub, ready to get into the other man's face. No one talked to him like this. This bastard had the nerve to openly insult him and didn't even look regretful at all. But before he could raise out of the water, two hands from behind held him tightly in check and the sensational voice whispered into his ear.

"Please, calm yourself. Master Jarvis will cast you out if you don't start showing your good manners."

Tony ground his teeth, but eventually relaxed and let himself be pushed forward, so the dark-haired servant could wash his back. So he was more than the mere head of the servants. He didn't know what it was, but the others clearly respected him for more than just being their superior. More than ten minutes Tony stayed silent, enjoying the water and the thorough cleaning. Finally even Jarvis seemed to unwind. How he was able to stand that straight for such a long time was a mystery to Tony.

"So..." Bluish eyes were on him again. "What will my tasks be?"

Another frustrated sigh left Jarvis, lips pressed into a thin line.

"I already explained it to you..."

It was serious, but when Karef started scrubbing his soles of his feet, he couldn't quite suppress a laugh.

"Then please..." Tony gave his best pleading face. "Enlighten me again." He held his leg up for Karef, grinning at him.

"Such a pampered brat." Jarvis commented. "I hope for your sake that you'll drop this behavior soon..." He rolled his eyes before giving him an answer to his question. "You will be a royal thrall."

"A slave..."

"No. A thrall." One could see Jarvis' patience wearing thinner.

"Are you a thrall?" Tony then asked and earned a shake of heads.

"No. I am the king's main servant. The head of the staff. I am in charge of every servant housed in the palace."

Tony just huffed and watched his new person of interest running that sponge over his thigh, dangerously close to his crotch.

"So what do I have to do then?"

"You will do everything your master asks of you. Whatever it is... I mean it." Jarvis added, after he saw him pulling a face again.

"They can't force me to do shit."

"They can. And they will. Let me be clear about this." A hand grasped Tony's chin and turned his focus on him. "If you won't obey. If you talk back or even hesitate, then being thrown out will be the least of your problems."

Tony gulped at the severity on his face. His own cockiness slowly fading away.

"I still think you don't get the gravity of this situation, Anthony. Once you are assigned to your master, they won't let you go anymore. The proper procedure to avoid dishonor, caused by a thrall, is beheading. So I suggest you'll focus your attention on learning fast."

Tony's chin was released, but his gaze was still fixed on the fair-haired man. So it really didn't matter whether he died in the streets or in this house. Beheading... They couldn't do that. Killing someone for not being submissive? He dropped his head, looking at his hands under the water surface. They could just have let him die in that dungeon. It would have been much easier for them. So why did they choose him. Tony clenched his hands into fists.

"They can't do that." He forced out, looking at Jarvis for help, who only looked back at him indifferently.

It was answer enough. Tony went quiet after this, keeping his mouth shut. When Karef was done brushing the dirt off of him, he stepped around the tub again, tending to the too long hair. With a mug, Karef wet his scalp, using his hand to make sure that no water got into his eyes. A sweet scent reached Tony's nostrils, fingers massaging a shampoo into his hair. Even though this was the most pleasant thing he had felt in months, he couldn't enjoy it. He just sat miserably there in the water, enduring the treatment and thinking about his future.

"Are you a seidr wielder?" The neutral voice asked and Tony didn't even look up to answer him.

"No..."

"Very well."

The shampoo was rinsed out and Karef absented himself, only to get back with a scissor. He started cutting the wet hair, getting it into shape. Once he was done, he offered Tony a hand to help him out, before he let the water drain out of the bath tub. Tony stood there on the spot, waiting for anything at all, while Karef fetched a large towel to dry him off. Meanwhile Jarvis called for two other servants, who brought clothes and put layers and layers of silk on him, until he was dressed in the finest robe he had ever seen in his life. One of the servants retrieved a box from one of the cabinets and held it out for Jarvis to open. An expensive looking collar appeared in his hands and Tony gasped at the sight, shaking his head violently.

"I am not some dog!" He hissed and tried to get away.

"That might be the case, but you do have an owner." Tony stared wide-eyed at him, still struggling against the hands that held him in place. "You will not go anywhere without the mark of ownership."

The man regarded the item in his hands. The black leather collar was jeweled with many expensive stones, bright red and golden ones, fitting his future carrier's eyes. In any other scenario, Tony would have admired the crafting of the jewelry, but now it left a nasty taste in his mouth.

"If you would prefer another way, we could also brand you. But I fear the king wouldn't like this."

Tony furrowed his brows at this, but eventually nodded and raised his head. One of the nameless servants took the collar from Jarvis' hands and fastened it around Tony's neck. And almost instantly, he felt constricted like an animal.

"We have five weeks to knock the nonsense out of you. You will learn to not shame yourself or your master. To behave appropriately. I will teach you table manners."

Tony gulped and nodded reluctantly.

"Furthermore. And I warn you now. Mind your words. Keep your voice down. Another swearword from your lips and you will face punishment."

Tony growled in his throat and followed his superior out of the room.


End file.
